


Vibrato

by justlikeyouimagined



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Anal Plug, Anal Sex, And puts his new skill to use, Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, Hannibal Loves Will, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Murder Husbands, Opera Trope, Operas turn Hannibal on, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Random other characters show up for a half second but it doesn't matter, Rimming, Will Loves Hannibal, Will learns to code, Will makes a sound-activated anal toy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-09
Updated: 2018-08-09
Packaged: 2019-06-20 03:11:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15524778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justlikeyouimagined/pseuds/justlikeyouimagined
Summary: This is little more than smut, Opera trope-style hah. Will and Hannibal have established an indulgent life together in Paris. Will has taken up a new hobby: coding. He decides to put his new skills to use by programming a toy for his murder husband, and then plans to to test it out while on a date to the opera.Set long after S3 in a world where it's entirely plausible that Hannibal and Will escape to a wildly obvious location and take up similar professions and hobbies, even though they are likely still topping the FBI's most wanted list.





	Vibrato

**Author's Note:**

> beta'd by the lovely [ishxallxgood](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ishxallxgood/works) \- thank you!

“Will,” Hannibal rolls over, groggy and squinting into the harsh light of the laptop screen. “It is 4 am, and as much as it gives me joy to see you so engrossed in your new… hobby, the glare from the screen is making rest impossible. My first patient arrives at eight.”

Will’s chin turns towards Hannibal, and though it was his intention that his eyes would soon follow, he is too engrossed in his work to look away. "Yeah.... uh..." he begins, distracted. When Hannibal clears his throat a moment later, it is enough to finally tear Will’s eyes away from the screen and spur him into action. He closes the laptop quickly, throwing the room into blessed darkness.

“Yes, I know, I know, I know. I’m done.” He tosses the laptop onto the nearby chaise, and scooches under the covers, next to Hannibal.

He leans over to peck Hannibal on the nose, a comfortable affection that Will knows mildly annoys the other man, “I’m done, good night.”

Hannibal mumbles something about Will not being young enough anymore to show such blatant disregard for proper sleep hygiene, but he still snuggles into his bedfellow and lazily wraps his arms around him before falling back to sleep.

\--

The following evening, Hannibal smiles expectantly upon opening his office door after his last patient. Will is already dressed, having chosen a crisp white shirt with a simple navy suit. His hair is slicked back just enough to make Hannibal’s lip twitch up almost imperceptibly in approval. He allows himself a quick glance at the man’s exposed neck and imagines running his tongue up against the muscles that present themselves there.

“Would you be disappointed to hear that I need to return home to change before going out? You look as though you have somewhere to be,” Hannibal says, remarking on Will’s uncharacteristic timeliness and attire.

Will finishes typing on his phone, dramatically swooping his hand to make some selection on his screen, before looking up at Hannibal from his spot on the tan leather sawbuck armchair. A short series of microexpressions pass across his face, too fast for Hannibal to pick them all out - _Happiness? Amusement? Wickedness?_ \- before he composes himself and smiles fondly at the doctor. Reaching across to the other armchair, he pulls up a garment bag before standing to pass it to Hannibal.

“No need. Here, I grabbed you something on my way out. Put everything on, and then let’s head out. I made dinner reservations before the show.”

The whole scene is delightfully unexpected - Will never makes plans for them - and Hannibal’s eyebrows raise just slightly to show Will that his attention is piqued.

“Playing dress up, Will? I trust that you have made a better effort to match the necktie to the pocket square this time?” Hannibal teases, harking back to a rather disastrous drunken stroll Will had made through the older man’s closet one particularly uneventful Sunday. He makes a mental note to review the polaroids taken from that evening, especially the sloppier ones near the end when most of the clothing had been discarded.

“Yes, yes. Trust me, it’s fine. Now go change and don’t be selective. It all goes on.” The second emphasis on making sure Hannibal don a complete outfit intrigues him enough that he gestures for Will to come into his office before he tilts his head in acceptance and heads towards his private bathroom down the hall.

When Hannibal returns, Will looks him once over in satisfaction, and notes the slight blush starting to creep up past the man’s collar. Beyond this cue, which most would overlook, Hannibal looks entirely composed in a simple three piece burgundy tux.

“While I am sure you are hoping that the additional… accessories you packed will cause me sufficient distraction,” Hannibal begins, clenching his cheeks when he notices Will’s gaze has drifted to his ass, “Your expression suggests to me that you may be more inconvenienced watching me navigate this evening than I will be from keeping this new toy of yours up my ass.”

Will lets out a low, barely audible grown before looking back up to meet his eyes. A wicked smile plays across the younger man’s features as he slips his cell phone out of his pocket and unlocks it.

Hannibal uses his slight height advantage to peer over the phone, curious but unsurprised to see lines of code. His lips purse in disapproval, a slight downturn of his eyebrows.

“Honestly, Will. If I am to indulge you in your private power games by wearing this all evening, I’m afraid I must insist that you put away your scripts.”

Will’s smile grows a little wider as he makes a final change and clicks Run.

“Sure, yes. Of course. Let’s go enjoy the evening, Doctor.”

He signals for Hannibal to lead the way out of the office, allowing him the opportunity to land one hard, loud slap on Hannibal’s ass. He imagines the slight pink tinge of colour that his touch would have caused to bloom under the slacks, knowing the assless black briefs he’d packed Hannibal would do well to frame his hand print. Will takes one last look through the garment bag, grabbing a small bottle that he tucks into his coat pocket before throwing the bag on the office floor and closing the door behind them.

\--

Dinner is, as expected, delicious. Hannibal twice commends Will for securing their reservations, which Will correctly reads as a passive dig against his usual choices. Conversation is easy and comfortable, and more often than not, intimate. Long after their relationship as patient and psychiatrist has ended and been replaced with this new companionship, the two men find themselves unable to cease their psychoanalytic banter.

“It is an unavoidable consequence of introspection, Will,” Hannibal continues, pausing to finish his wine, “to be so fascinated with one’s own machinations that one fails to experience the pleasure that comes from giving up control and trusting in the mind’s ability to react within the moment.”

Will snorts slightly in response, raising his eyebrows at Hannibal before tipping his own glass to drain it. He smooths his hands over his slacks, and rises from the table to go clean himself up. Will pauses when he notices Hannibal shifting slightly in his seat. He leans down and rests his hand on his chest. Under his fingers, he can feel the thick leather of the harness he'd packed alongside the tux, and he traces the edge of it through the crisp fabric of his dress shirt and down, until it disappears behind his vest. He then moves his hand to Hannibal’s thigh, and positions his lips over Hannibal’s ear.

“It would seem to me, Hannibal, that for someone so intent on hiding your obvious arousal,” Will allows his fingers to brush softly over Hannibal’s half hard penis, and experiences a pang of satisfaction when he feels it twitch in response, “You are in no position to judge others for their unwillingness to give up control and react to the moment.”

Hannibal allows himself a cool smile. He finds Will’s gaze and holds it. “As I was saying, Will, though I may be able to garner some… satisfaction with my current situation, it is you that seems to be more easily distracted by recurrent sexual thoughts. Tell me, are you preoccupied by what we’ll get up to after the opera?”

Will straightens up and smiles down at the doctor. “After?” he asks mildly, before heading down past the kitchen to the washrooms.

The reveal of Will’s public intentions pulls at something carnal inside Hannibal, causing him to press into the chair so that he can rub against the silicone strip that currently connects the plug lodged deep in his ass to the cock ring exerting just enough pressure. He smiles despite himself.

\---

Under normal circumstances, the half hour walk through Paris from their restaurant near Sacre Coeur towards the Palais Garnier would have been a pleasant one in the early fall weather. The slight wind is welcomingly crisp after the stale heat of the small, crowded restaurant. Presently, however, Hannibal suspects Will of having picked this restaurant simply to watch him navigate the many steps leading down from the hill. That WIll insists on Hannibal leading the way - that he catches his partner staring pointedly at his ass whenever he glances back - only reaffirms his suspicions.

After a time, Will smirks, “We should move a little faster if we don’t want to miss the first act,” giving up pretense, he adds, “And I fucking love watching you squirm.”

Hannibal doesn’t point out that the squirm is more a performance put on for Will than true discomfort, although he admits to himself that the plug’s subtle shifting movements have added a level of pleasure overtop the feeling of fullness that he is finding increasingly more difficult to ignore. Before leaving the restaurant, he’d positioned his still-half erect cock under the waistband of his new briefs. And though the strain of it was its own distraction, it was more gratifying to know that he could deprive Will from showing his desire off to the fellow Parisians they pass.

Will speeds up, cupping Hannibal’s ass slightly and guiding the man to match his pace. With the other hand, he slips his phone out again and checks on what seems to be a timer, revealing a little under a minute remaining.

The muscles in Hannibal’s neck tighten slightly, before he once again regains his composure, “Is it worth the trouble of asking what you’re so eagerly counting down to?” he asks, taking Will’s hand from his ass and weaving their fingers together.

Will’s thumb rubs circles absently against the base of Hannibal’s own. “Can’t a man look forward to the show?”

“A man? Absolutely. You? You have told me in no uncertain terms that our evenings at the opera are no more than an indulgence that you allow me.”

“I don’t know,” he shrugs, “maybe this one’ll be more interesting.” Another smirk.

As if on cue, Hannibal’s breath hitches in surprise as the toy deep in his ass lets out a series of short, random vibrations. He stops walking, his eyes intent on Will.

“Will.”

“Hannibal?” he plays innocent with a wicked grace, but cannot hold the edges of his mouth from turning up just enough to give him away.

“What have you done?” he cannot bring himself to play at being upset, or shocked. Another quick series of buzzes lets out, and his eyes brighten at the turn their evening has taken. He takes a step closer, thinking his presence may serve as enough of an intimidation to affect Will.

It doesn’t work. Will is too smitten with his cleverness to be distracted by plays at intimidation. He tugs gently at Hannibal’s hand to get them walking, faster, this time.

“I found something useful to do with my code.” Is all he says, the light blush on his cheeks betraying how pleased he is with himself. “This should be… a fun evening, Hannibal. Come on now, I don’t want to miss the opening.”

\---

They arrive and find their box with a buffer of a few minutes before the curtains are scheduled to come up. Thankfully, the plug has only let out two or three more spurts of vibration, though it is Hannibal’s inability to predict when the next series will come that is ramping up his desire more so than the extra physical sensation deep in his bowels.

As he sits, taking a moment to acknowledge the delicious way the chair presses the toy up and in, Hannibal realizes curiously that in actuality, it is buzzing, albeit only slightly. It must have started as they moved swiftly through the crowd of patrons, his mind too focused on navigating the full staircases to pay proper attention to the change. It isn’t a steady vibration, he notes, thinking he’ll eventually need to commend Will on his decision to code the toy in such an unpredictable manner.

The curtain rises, and the orchestra launches into the first piece. The magnitude of sensation Hannibal experiences is enough to make him lift off his seat a fraction, and whip his head to his lover, who is paying no attention to the stage.

Will permits his pleasure to paint itself across his face. “It’s sound sensitive,” he says, still grinning, and grabs at Hannibal’s knee to give a small squeeze. “I set it to start with the test sequences, and then to respond to external noises a few minutes before the show.”

“You wicked boy,” is all Hannibal permits himself to whisper through his teeth. The first orchestral piece hasn’t let up, and the fury of the brass section is playing itself out against his prostate.

“It should translate the sound to a vibration comparable in frequency and intensity.” He laughs softly, knowing full well that they’ve just sat down to what critics have described as a three hour drama that distinguishes itself from other newer operas by its persistent fervor. “The microphone is hidden in the base of the cock ring”, Will whispers the last part in his ear. He leans in casually, allows himself a soft bite on Hannibal’s earlobe, and then settles himself back to enjoy the first act.

\---

Just before first intermission, Hannibal has, to his credit, not once left his seat and retreated to the quiet of the empty hallways. Will has no idea what has happened for the last 75 minutes on stage, not that he is deeply upset by this fact. From his vantage point just slightly behind Hannibal’s own chair, Will has nevertheless been thoroughly entertained.

Though Hannibal is remiss to let on how much this game is affecting him, Will knows his partner better than anyone and sees past his composure as though it were a thin veil. He’s been watching the slow clench and unclench of the man’s jaw, the way he is crossing and uncrossing his legs just slightly more often than is his custom. He swore he could hear the soft buzz of the toy during a particularly eventful scene; and hummed delightedly when he noticed Hannibal’s hand firmly gripping the seat’s arm.

He has spent his time in a state of aroused fascination, quietly observing the way in which his partner’s outward tells of arousal crest and subside with the music, and finds himself wondering if Hannibal has managed to scratch out any predictive control over what is happening to him.

He’s about to ask as much, when the final, quiet tone sounds from the stage before the audience erupts in applause as the first act ends. Hannibal’s hand shoots out to grab hold of the box’s front railing as he responds to the burst of stimulation filling him inside. Will impulsively licks his lips as Hannibal allows himself a moment to close his eyes and ride the applause through. A single bead of sweat pools at the edge of his hairline before slipping down the side of Hannibal’s face. A satisfaction so intense fills Will in response, making his own cock twitch hard in his suit pants.

While the applause dies out, Hannibal is afforded little reprieve as the indistinct chatter of the patrons quickly replaces it. Will stands up as they always do, expecting Hannibal’s stubborn resoluteness would mean they’d be spending the intermission in short snippets of conversation with the other regulars that have so quickly fallen for his partner. When Hannibal makes no attempt to get up, Will feels at once both delightfully pleased he's brought his partner to such a state, as well as slightly disappointed that he wouldn't be able to show him off for a time.

When Hannibal opens his eyes, they are bright and dancing in the dim light of the theatre. “If you are expecting me to join you outside, I’m afraid you may have underestimated the compounding effect your little invention is having over me.” Hannibal’s speech is nearly imperceptibly affected, but the way his sentence trails into a breathless sigh does not go unnoticed by Will.

Chuckling more to himself, Will slides his phone out of his pocket as he moves to lean on the edge of the railing in front of the other man.  
“Why Hannibal, I seem to recall you pointedly tell me how I’d underestimated your resolve just a couple of hours before. Now you are blaming me for planning an evening that is getting the better of you?”

“I am willing to admit that the… musicality… of the event has worn away my resolve somewhat more than I had anticipated.” He lets go of the railing and once again places his hands back into his lap. Will notices, pleased, that Hannibal makes no attempt to touch himself despite the growing need he surely feels.

Will swallows before unlocking his phone. “This has been more than satisfying for me, Hannibal. I don’t mean to see you suffer. Say the word and I’ll happily stop the program anytime.” To underline the point, Will’s thumb hovers over his screen.

Hannibal looks up at Will, but his face belies no markers of submission. The theatre has mostly emptied into the hallways now. A glance down to his screen tells him that the motor is barely humming in the relative quiet. Hannibal takes his moment to breathe deeply and admire the younger man.

Hannibal stands, and presses himself firmly into Will, causing him to gasp slightly as their firm cocks make contact through the layers. For an instant, Will sees a spark in the other man’s eyes and can’t tell if it is driven by a sexual or a violent desire being held at bay. He finds that either suits him, but he tightens his grip on the too-short railing a little harder all the same.

Hannibal’s eyes turn to the other man’s lips while his hand smoothly moves up to rest on Will’s face. He plants a slow, tender kiss just to the side of his mouth.

“Don’t look so smug just yet, Will. I’m not quite ready to wave my white flag.” He breathes, taking Will’s right hand from the rail. He replaces it gently over the outline of his own cock, painfully hard. The area around the head - Will takes in with quiet awe - damp to the touch even through the pants.

Will groans slightly, resisting the urge to call the rest of the evening off and go back to their home to finish what he’d started. It is, after all, only intermission. Instead, he mimics his partner’s gesture, pressing Hannibal’s hand forcefully against his own erection, moving it slightly against its length.

“Come wait just outside the box, I’ll bring you back a drink. You look like you could use a break.”

He watches, with clear delight in his eyes, as Hannibal gently makes his way towards him. He absently wonders whether next time, he might be able to get the man to agree to wear it throughout a day of seeing clients and running errands. The thought makes his chest tight and he resists the urge to grab at Hannibal’s ass.

The cacophony of sounds just outside the theatre is overwhelming, even for Will. He forgot how well the heavy doors and thick velvet curtains at the exits soundproofed the main hall against the rest of the building. Eagerly, he looks over at Hannibal and fails to suppress a small laugh at the sight of the man as he steps into the hall and literally braces himself up against the heavy curtains surrounding the door. His chest rises as he takes a deep inhale to steady himself.

“I’m afraid you may have outdone yourself this time, you sneaky boy.” Hannibal says quietly, flashing just a hint of a quick, beaten smile. Before Will can reply, his attention is caught by the sound of the other man’s name.

“Hannibal!” a tall woman yells from down the hall, waving her heavily bangled wrist in the air and quickly approaching the pair. An amused looking younger man follows smoothly behind her.

“I swore to Anthony it was you up in the box, didn’t I?” she says, looking flustered over at the man, who nonchalantly shrugs. “But he just didn’t believe me. He said Hannibal would never look so preoccupied at the opera, didn’t you darling?”

Will’s face lights up as the two guests lean in for customary pecks on the cheek. He hums to himself as he watches Hannibal’s composure fall over him like a suit of armour. Though he may be able to control his expressions, Will nearly chokes when she reels back in concern from their greeting, “Are you quite alright Hannibal? Your skin is on fire!” In emphasis, she places the back of her hand against his forehead and tuts.

Anthony looks Hannibal over slowly, his gaze resting a little longer than strictly necessary over the shadows made between Hannibal’s suit jacket and his slacks. The young man’s lips twist in amusement, as he turns his head to address Will instead, “Your date looks like he might benefit from a gentle helping hand.” Anthony smiles in earnest now, clearly pleased with himself.

Hannibal pays the younger man attention enough to note with some interest how supple his neck looks just below his scarf. He flashes a quick look at Will before returning his attention to the lanky woman. “Your friend is quite right, unfortunately Madame Fell. I was just relaying to Mr. Graham that it may be for the best that he take me home.”

Will pulls out his phone and excuses himself briefly under the guise of ordering a car service, but instead he sneaks a glance at the GUI showing a series of near-max intensity bursts that are spaced just randomly enough that he’s sure must be torment for his partner. He assumes that the largest spikes are being driven by the way Madam Fell tends to sharply enunciate her words.

After a moment, he returns to the threesome. “I hate to say it, but it’s time for me to pull Hannibal away from you both, Madame Fell and… Anthony was it? It is a shame we’ll miss the rest of the performance,” he adds, addressing Anthony with a small knowing smile, “But I’ll admit that I am glad that Hannibal has finally come to his senses enough to know when it is time to surrender himself for the evening.”

The older woman makes another tutting sound with her tongue but nods approvingly before resting her jewelry-laden hand on Will’s cheek, stroking him like a pet. Will’s eye twitches at the feeling of the unwanted, condescending touch. “Sweet boy. We should all be as lucky as Hannibal is to have someone so caring to look after us in our times of need.” Will smirks at that despite himself, and sees Hannibal do the same. “Of course, please go. I do hope you’ll have us around again soon.”

“It would be my pleasure to serve you at my table,” Hannibal manages, ignoring the dirty look that Will shoots him. “But for now, bonsoir. Please, enjoy the rest of the night.”

The two men head towards the lobby staircase, Will practically buzzing with thoughts of what’s to come.

\---

A familiar chiming sound starts up over the din as Will and Hannibal descend the grand staircase, intent on making their way back to the privacy of their apartment, when suddenly Will decides that he's had enough waiting.

“Follow me,” he says, placing a firm grip on Hannibal’s elbow, winding them through the oncoming crowd of patrons looking to return to their seats.

Down the stairs and around the corner, Will leads them towards a small, dimly lit bathroom. The last of the stragglers stands against the red and tan marble counter, adjusting his bow tie when he catches their reflection in the mirror. “Bonsoir,” he says with a nod, and maneuvers himself around the men and out.

“Here?” Hannibal asks, though he already knows the answer.

Will places his hand on the frame of the door before locking the whole of the restroom against any further intrusions.

“Here. Now.”

For a moment, Hannibal considers the situation; a public bathroom - no matter how opulent - doesn’t even rank in his top 10 places he’d like to take care of this situation. When he meets the steady gaze of his partner, however, plainly heavy with desire and… power, he makes his decision and takes a step forward towards Will.

“No,” Will says, voice firm. “Jacket off. Vest off. Then against the sinks. Turn around.”

A pull of wanting grabs Hannibal from the inside, which blooms and spreads like a prickly heat across his body at the strength in Will’s command. A smirk plays across his lips before he tips his head in quiet submission. Slowly, he removes his layers, then turns and makes his way to the smooth counter, placing his hands wide and leaning forward. On display.

He sneaks a glance at Will via the mirror, takes note of the way his hand has absently moved to rub the front of his slacks, how his head is cocked slightly to the side as if he has lost himself in the view. Will takes his own suit jacket off, removing the lube from the inner pocket and rolling up his sleeves. Hannibal lowers his head again and waits for the other man to approach.

Suddenly, he feels him against his ass, his breathing heavy against his neck.

“You’ve been endlessly patient,” he begins, “more than I can be.” Will admits, and Hannibal smiles to himself at the urgency with which Will grabs at his belt to undo it, practically ripping at his zipper in his haste to tear his pants down and off. They pool at his ankles, and Hannibal lifts his foot slightly to help Will slip one leg off so he can spread himself wider than the tight fabric would otherwise allow.

Will sinks slowly to his knees with a low growl, and grabs possessively at his bare ass. Hannibal has the distinct feeling of being watched, no, revered, by his partner, and this only stirs his desire further. His hips cant back slightly, and Will doesn’t hold back as he presses his face against his flesh, biting hard at his cheeks, clawing to pull Hannibal apart. Their desire, held in check for nearly two hours now - more if you count dinner, and Hannibal is certainly counting dinner - has finally found a space suitable for its unleash.

Will’s mouth makes marks over the spheres of Hannibal’s ass, making his cock jump with every sharp prick of his partner’s teeth. He lets out a quiet moan when Will’s tongue moves to lick at his hole, around the base of the now nearly-still toy lodged deep in his ass. He relishes the feeling of the plug tapping against his prostate whenever Will’s face presses on it. He can feel Will pushing his tongue in, around the toy, can feel the desperate way he seeks entry. One hand moves away from holding his ass open to grab at his cock through the thin fabric of Hannibal’s assless briefs, and he grips it firmly just above where the cock ring is doing the same.

“Do you intend to keep it there and deny us both a greater satisfaction?” Hannibal asks, breathing heavy at the assault.

At that, Will stops and leans back on his heels. He tightens his grip on Hannibal’s cock and pulls slightly, guiding the man to turn around to face him. Once around, Will buries his face against the man’s cock, licking and sucking at his balls through the fabric, biting at the thin silicone connecting the cock ring to his ass and pulling slightly, enough for Hannibal to feel the plug press against the rim of his hole. Hannibal smirks at that, but resists the urge to push Will’s head further against him, choosing instead of leave his hands against the counter in quiet supplication.

Will growls then, his lips firmly against the base of his cock, directly against the microphone of his clever device. Hannibal closes his eyes at the sensation, his lips parting slightly. Will grabs the waistband of Hannibal’s precum- and spit-dampened underwear and pulls it down. His lips quickly return back to where they had been, and he licks at the skin just above the cock ring.

“Are you saying you don’t appreciate the fruits of my labor?” he says, low, directly into the microphone. He moves his mouth up, to the top of Hannibal’s cock, sending a string of vibrations through him. Will licks the beads of precum leaking steadily from the other man's tip.

There is a long moment of silence, Hannibal unwilling to say anything that might threaten to stop Will’s worship in front of him. Still, the humming Will is making while he sucks eagerly at his cock is pushing him further past any hope for control, the vibrations echoing under his lips and, a fraction of a moment later, up into his ass.

“It is no substitute for the real thing” he manages to breathe, and grips at the younger man’s jaw by means of bringing him to his feet to meet his height.

The two stand, pressed against each other, exchanging their own spent breaths for that of their partner’s. For several seconds, the two find stillness like this, neither daring to break gaze with the other. In time, Will leans in for a kiss that is as tentative and gentle as his previous actions had been carnal and desperate. The taste of his own body mixed with the sweet taste of his partner’s mouth causes Hannibal to grip roughly at Will’s wrinkled shirt front.

Hannibal unclenches his hands and runs them over his partner’s toned chest, then starts at the buttons. Will mirrors Hannibal, kiss deepening as they undress each other. The two are both naked then, except for the black leather harness that has been chafing against Hannibal’s chest all evening. Will knows in this context, it is not an unwanted irritation, and he pulls at the harness just a bit to admire the slight pink lines that run against his chest, running his other hand through a tuft of silvering hair. He breaks apart and takes two steps back.

“Turn around and lean forward.”

Hannibal obeys. He returns to his initial position, naked now, arms wide, back nearly parallel to the floor, hips tilted up to show himself off.

Will moves closer and runs his nails over his lower back, against the rough scar tissue, and then grabs at his bare ass once more. With one hand keeping his cheek spread, he pulls slowly and gently at the plug to release it, letting the weight of it pull indelicately on Hannibal's trapped cock. Decidedly less gently, he then tugs at the cock ring to remove the device altogether. It lands unceremoniously on top of Hannibal’s discard slacks on the floor.

The toy’s absence is unavoidably noticeable, and Will moans at the sight of the slight gap of Hannibal's ass after having been used to the girth of the intrusion for so long. Hannibal’s cock leaks a little in response to his partner’s appreciation. After the nearly two years they’ve spent together in their new life, it is these moments that pull at him in a way that would be entirely insufficient by a word as petty as love. These base, primal moments when they stand back for a passing breath to pay respect to the way in which their bodies scream to connect. The need going far beyond simply fucking.

Hannibal hears the click of the lube’s lid, then the sloppy squirt as Will hastily covers his cock in the stuff. He positions himself just in front of his ass, the head of his cock pressing lightly against the stretched ring of muscle. Will’s one hand grips at Hannibal’s hip. With the other, he runs his nails back up his back, grabbing at the solid metal loop secured to the back of the harness. With strength coming largely from desire, Will uses his hold to keep Hannibal steady as he finally pushes himself up and into his partner. The two of them moan with the conjoining they’d both put off all evening.

Having exhausted his patience, Will immediately takes up at a brutal pace, pushing deeper and harder with every thrust as though if he kept trying he might be able to somehow entwine themselves further than their physical bodies allow. Hannibal’s ass is raw and sensitive from the unrelenting vibrations from the first act of the show, but the tenderness feels exquisite and he pushes himself further onto Will's cock.

Will grips harder at the leather around Hannibal’s shoulders and jerks his body up and forward, trapping Hannibal's erection hard against the edge of the counter. He can feel Will’s breath, and hisses when Will bites at his shoulder.

“You are mine.” he growls, slamming into Hannibal, holding him upright by the straps and worrying the bruises forming on his deltoid from where he’d bit down.

Hannibal nods furiously twice, his brow knit as he feels the hunger deep in him beginning to bubble over. Even with his cock smashed against the counter, he’s on the edge, desperate not to let go just yet.

“Hold on,” Will groans again, encouraging Hannibal’s exquisite control. “You’re not going to come for me until I allow it.”

It is a blessing that the pain against his cock is holding his release at bay what with Will’s taunting. Hannibal focuses on the assault into his ass, pushing his hips hard against it both to encourage the way in which Will’s rhythm is relenting to the carnal jerky thrusts of his impending orgasm, as well as to relieve the pressure against his own hard-on. Will rides his edge for several more minutes, unwilling to let the feeling overcome him until finally it does, and he comes, hard, into Hannibal's ass, fingers clawing at his hip and leaving fine lines of abused skin.

He stays buried deep in Hannibal long enough for his breathing to calm slightly before he pulls out and turns Hannibal around.

“You let me use you,” Will says, kneeling down and kissing the lean thighs in front of him. “I owe you a debt.”

Hannibal doesn’t reply, willing to let the scene play out as Will intends it. Without the fullness in his ass, without the pressure of the counter against his cock, he feels unhinged and unsteady. His legs will hold, though he rests his weight more firmly against his hands as he braces against the counter while Will continues to plant devout kisses on the insides of his thighs.

“Your turn now. Let me taste you.” Will breathes, licking Hannibal’s length before relaxing his throat and taking the man in with a single motion.

Hannibal groans at that, unable to resist the need to fuck into the feeling now that he’s been given permission to chase his climax. Will chokes softly once, twice at the force by which Hannibal has taken over the movements, which only compels Hannibal’s hips to push harder, jerk with more certainty.

He looks down at his partner and feels such overwhelming satisfaction that it is all he can do to buck once more before he comes with a ferocious intensity that makes Will pull back, catching only about half of what Hannibal shoots out. The rest lands on his face, dribbles down onto his chest.

Hannibal pulls Will to his feet, wrapping his arms possessively around his spent body and kisses him tenderly, licking the space around his lips clean of the spill. Will lets him, leaning more of his weight onto him and traces small patterns across the small of his back as they stand together, allowing their runaway heartbeats to return to normal.

After a few moments, they part and begin re-dressing, both increasingly aware at how their luck of remaining undisturbed will not last forever. After Will has washed and dried the plug, Hannibal’s eye brighten as he watches him flounder around a bit, trying to decide where to put it in order to bring it home.

Will looks up, put out and mockingly hopeful, “I don’t suppose you want to put this back in until we get home?”

Hannibal merely lifts his eyebrows slightly in response, and continues to button his vest. With a shrug, he tosses the toy in the waste bin. “Ehh, it was a prototype anyway.”  
Will moves closer to his partner, placing a quick kiss on Hannibal’s amused mouth.

“I have a lot of ideas for the next one.”

**Author's Note:**

> And there you have it! I don't typically write... much of anything, let alone porn, but this was delightfully fun. Tell me what you think either here or come yell at me on tumblr: [trikemily](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/trikemily)
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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